It's You, Me and The Waves
by hungrywhovianpotterhead
Summary: After the Villians are defeated, and they finally have a moment alone, Emma and Killian take a night, with just the two of them together, alone with the waves.
**A/N: Okay, this little ficcy, is something I wrote for tumblr user flslp87, for my three hundred follower giveaway, and they gave me the prompt Emma and Killian having a date on the Jolly Roger, and this little brain child came to be.**

 **Warning: This work is not beta'd, as my lovely beta is still in season 1.**

 **Disclaimers: I own nothing, but the plot line. I am not Adam, nor am I Eddy. or am I?**

It's so rare for there to be a quiet time in Storybrooke. So when they got one, Killian wasted no time in setting up the perfect romantic evening for him and the woman he loves.

It took some time, but at last it was perfect. Twinkle lights hanging down the rails of the gangplank of the Jolly, leading to a folding table set with a red checkered cloth, and burning candles. Killian was just placing the finishing touches, when he heard the distinct sound of her heels clicking on the wood.

He turned, and his breath caught. Emma stood, wearing a red dress; it reached her knees, brushing around her legs in soft ripples as it was moved by the ocean breeze. She had her hair pinned carefully to her head in braids, cherry lips pulled up in a soft smile, "Is this all for me?" she asked, looking around in disbelief.

Killian nodded, and swept into a bow, "Aye, nothing but the best, for My Swan." he said, as he moved to meet her, reaching to help her onto the deck.

Emma did a small curtsy, "My, we really are pulling out all the stops, aren't we?" she asked, taking his hand, unable to fight her soft gasp as his scruff brushed against her knuckles, his lips brushing the skin, soothing the spot his stubble scraped.

"Always, my darling." He allowed her to step aboard the ship. "Anyway, you deserve much more than this, Luv." He pulled her to him, "This, is simply the least I could do, for all that you've done for me."

Emma looked down, her fingers fiddling with the rings on his right hand, "It's perfect." She said softly, her eyes meeting his, "Everything is perfect." Her other hand traced up his chest, pausing to rest over his heart, the steady thump a comfort to her.

He smiled and leaned in capturing her lips with his. Emma's eyes fluttered shut, her fingers; still resting on his chest, curled into the fabric of his shirt. His kisses burned like fire in her soul, or soothed like water coursing over parched earth. The way his lips felt, soft and full against her own, tasting of rum and the sea, his scruff scraping her chin, his hand and hook exploring her back and tangling in her hair.

He pulled away slowly, but still it was like he took her air with him. "Come, luv." He gestured to the table, "Dinner." He ushered her into a chair, scooting it up to the table, then disappeared for a moment, returning with two plates. She let out a small chuckle, she realized that he hadn't cooked. Rather he went to the restaurant from their first date, and gotten her favorite pizza.

"Mmmm, my favorite." She said, her eyes catching his, "cheater." She said good naturedly.

Killian looked down on her with a comical display of false offense, "Me? I don't know what you're talking about luv. I made this myself."

Emma let out a full laugh then, "sure." She said with a small eye roll, "doesn't matter though." She said, as he slid into the chair across from her.

He tilted his head, "It doesn't?" he asked pouring her a glass of wine. "And why is that?"

Emma's eyes glittered in the low light on the deck of the ship, "Because, captain." She moved in closer, "Whether you can cook or not…" she paused.

Killian scoffed, "I can cook!" he defended.

Emma laughed again, "shut up." She told him with a small smile, "I was saying, cooking ability or no, I love you."

He marveled at her, was it only a few short months ago, that she had feared those three little words? Was it only a few short months ago, when she spoke them for the first time? She had said them many times since, and they still made his heart skip precious beats. After a moment, he nodded, clearing his throat, "Aye, well, I can cook. I just decided to get you your favorite." He grinned, "And I love you too, Emma."

Emma raised a brow, but didn't push him again, there would be time for that later. "Well, in any case, at least I can cook."

"Swan." Killian started, "You burnt a bowl of Lucky Charms, on Tuesday." He told her, eyes twinkling.

Emma's mouth dropped open, "how did you…" she scowled, "Henry."

He nodded.

"Okay, but what he didn't say was I sneezed and it set my magic off. Not cooking!" she wagged her finger at him, "I happen to make a mean piece of toast." She declared.

Killian laughed, "The lad may have mentioned magic was involved." He grinned at her.

Emma stuck her tongue out at him, taking a bite out of her pizza, "Oh, but this is really good." She said, her eyes falling closed.

"Thus, why I picked it." Killian told her.

She peeked at him from one eye, "I'm sorry Killian, I think I just found my true love, and it's this pizza."

He pouted, "It's a shame you just killed it then…" he said, nodding at the fact she had already eaten half of it.

She cracked another smile, "Hmmm… I guess I still have you." She said.

He shrugged, "Second best, is still better than most." He said, "Though, if I had known about the pizza, I might have gotten something else instead." He reasoned.

"See, at least I still love you, this pizza has just stolen my heart."

Killian chuckled, "Just promise me, we'll not have to launch a rescue mission to the underworld for this food." He joked.

Emma giggled, a sound like bells tinkling, "I guess not, we'll just have to get some more some time." She sighed with mock despair.

Killian smiled softly, loving the easy way she opened up. It struck him, how far they've come from that first trip up the beanstalk. Her walls that seemed so impossible to scale, now lay crumbled at their feet. His own walls, that had been built by centuries of hate and revenge, now burnt to ashes by the power of their passion. Leaving two people, who were left defenseless against one another.

Emma must have noticed his silence, and gently pulled him back to the here and now, "Hook… Killian?" Either that, or she had asked him a question.

Either way, he shook himself, looking up at her, "Sorry, Luv. What was that?" he asked. Smiling sheepishly.

Emma smiled, "A little distracted, pirate?" she asked him, "I was saying, thank you for dinner."

He nodded, suddenly very flustered, the real plan for this evening coming ever closer, every moment bringing him closer to the point of his going all out, and not just because whether she knew it or not, three years ago, they had taken those first steps. Three years ago, he determined to be the one to break down those walls. Even he hadn't realized it at the time, to consumed with the thoughts of getting to Storybrooke, of getting his revenge. This was then anniversary of their climb up the beanstalk. He had chosen it skillfully, make this day a mark of change. A sign of their love. Killian's fingers strayed to his pocket, feeling the small lump there. Not yet. Soon, but not yet. The Lad had told him that he needed to be delicate, and build her up to it. So rather than drop to one knee now, he rose, and came round the table, bowed, and offered his hand to his princess. "Would the princess, protest to a dance?" he asked, sending her a devilish smile.

Emma raised an eyebrow. He could tell her sudden mood shifts, and general nervousness was setting off bells in her head. "A dance? But, Killian, there's no music."

He winked, "Music? Why Emma. I never said it was that kind of dance." He grinned as she smacked his shoulder.

"Perv." She laughed.

He chuckled, "Worry not, luv." He whispered, "I have music. I'm not quite ready for this evening to come to a glorious close yet." He promised.

Emma smiled, taking his hand, allowing him to pull her up, and to him. His hooked arm came up around her, his hand fumbling with the remote that Henry had given him to control the music machine he had put on the ship, and the soft cords of a song the lad had given him started playing. Emma's eyebrow raised again, "Deathcab For Cutie?" she asked, as he started guiding her across the deck, "I'm guessing you had help." She said, resting her head on his shoulder, her fingers tracing his hook as they swayed.

He chuckled, "Aye, the lad said this song was rather fitting." He said, as they swept across the deck.

Emma smiled, into the crook of his neck, "Well, he was right. I did follow you into the dark." She said softly. "I still can't believe you're back." She admitted, her grip on his hand growing firmer.

He breathed in the smell of Emma, her shampoo mixing with the unique smell that is her, something spicy, like cinnamon, and something he can't place, that he knew was all her. "I still can't believe you came for me." He admitted back, closing his eyes softly, just enjoying the way she folded into him, melting into his arms. They swayed, not doing any true dance, simply swaying in one another's grasp, their steps continuing even as the music faded, content to sway in the night, twinkling lights shining down on them, embraced in each other's arms.

Finally, Killian pulled back, his eyes meeting hers, his mouth coming down, to angle across hers. His arm that was holding her hand, came around her waist pulling her closer, deepening the kiss.

Emma sighed against his mouth her hands coming to rest at her favorite point whenever they kissed. One clutching at the fabric of his jacket covering his shoulders, the other toying with the curls at the nape of her neck. She let out a soft whimper when he pulled away.

"Emma." He whispered, his eyes burning into hers, smoldering with passion, "Emma." He said again.

Her eyes blazed like emeralds, as her chest heaving, mouth open just a little, "Killian." She gasped.

He smiled softly, "Emma, I want to ask you something." He started, he knew, he would never have a better moment than right now. He released her waist, his hand going to his breast pocket, where the tiny box rested. He pulled it out, and he saw her eyes grow wide. He dropped down on one knee. The box extended before him. He used his hook to pry open the lid, "Emma Swan, since the first day I laid eyes on you. I was in love; I knew I had met someone that would haunt my dreams. I never thought I would ever be able to say that your heart was mine, even as I passed you ownership of mine. You have proven me wrong, and you healed my heart, after centuries of darkness, and anger. You have made me whole, or so I thought, until I realized that there was still something missing. Emma Swan, will you make me whole? Will you marry me?" he asked, gazing up at her hopefully.

Emma was silent, her eyes blown wide with shock, and for a moment he thought she would run. His smile faltered, maybe this wasn't the right time... maybe it was too soon. Maybe he was wrong, and this wasn't what she wanted.

He was about to close the box, apologize for assuming, when tears sprang to her eyes, and her shocked expression grew into a grin, and she nodded. He froze "Emma?" he asked softly, his voice coming out vulnerable.

Her hand fluttered to her mouth, still nodding, her mouth moving, but unable to say what she wanted, then, finally. She found her voice, "Yes. Yes! Yes, Killian! Yes." She sprang into his arms, mindful of the tiny box still in his hand, "I will marry you." She said, then she captured his lips into a searing kiss.

He laughed as they pulled apart, "Thank the gods." He gasped, "You had me a little worried for a second." He said, but then she silenced him with another kiss.

 **Please review**

 **Lift Kisses for all my lovelies! Until next Fic, allonsy!**


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